There is no real story to this apart from his scrambled contemplation about his life and where it has been and where it is going to. This is lending from the Year One story which is my personal favourite for some back story for our dear screwed up Jonathan. I got an A* for this two years ago in an English assignment, so figured why not put it up. *shrugs and bows pleasantly.*
Up On A Hill
Jonathan Crane sat and over-looked the city from the height he'd climbed. Many people were afraid of heights, of the fall, but he didn't care much. It was nice and tranquil up here; the air was fresh, it seemed so pure and cleansed.
For once, it was nice to just sit and not think about the revenge inside of him that he wanted so desperately to gain on all of those who had wronged him so badly. No, he didn't just want it, he needed it. But he wasn't thinking about that now was he? He was just observing the city, even in the pouring rain, and after all observation was habitual for a man like Jonathan. He was a former psychologist after all.
Watch them all, those people who so often disgrace humanity, make a travesty of humankind, with no regard for the consequences. Fear gets us all in the end though.
Even before Jonathan had taken up his alter-ego of Scarecrow completely he'd been obsessed with fear. Only last night he had claimed it to be 'learned instinct' to his late mentor in psychology. It contradicted itself but it was true, if not absurd sounding. At least the general perception of him was absurd. Maybe he wouldn't be so absurd sounding had his Grandmother not done what she did to him.
He never really did get a proper shot at childhood. So perhaps that too was why he ran around masked, scaring people. He was playing games he never got to play. Living out consecutive Halloweens he could never have.
He'd never even had fun as a child. He recalled agony, as he labored himself over pointless working in the field, way harsher than what his frail body could take. He remembered panic, from all those who taunted and threatened him. He'd kept in mind with him on his twisted journey those moments he was locked in a chapel the blind terror he felt each and every time.
He bowed his head and sighed, still carrying the burden upon his back. He was stronger in a sense, even if he was immoral to have that strength. No one really considered the trauma when you lamented over your journey to madness, they only saw in you the wrong things you'd done and used it to judge you by.
He laid back on the ground, at ease. Too much at ease. He was waiting for the Batman but he fell asleep on the ground.
Jonathan awoke with a start. Light rain tapped him on the cheeks, making him pull a cute disgruntled expression. In the distance he could hear a humming sound. He sat up and adjusted. It was slightly darker than when he'd gone to sleep. HE is finally here. The aircraft was Batman's. Well, at least if he catches me I can't get fired from my job again. Though I do believe this is my call to be off.
He slipped his mask down and sulked away, going to his next port of call. The next person he'd seek revenge from. One step closer to the finer details of the big picture. And much closer to closure.